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Goodnight, See You In The Daylight

I’ve been coming home for months.
I am so tired of the doing of it wrong.

There is the wind
and there are the trees

Which is it
we are talking about?


I blow hard, I lose leaves,
—the symbiotic tree tops, the storms
strumming branches, and arms
pointing everywhere—


I blew hard, I lost leaves,
but I am rooted in the soil of the truth
and not the hydroponics of belief.


What I see and what I see
of you, this will do for truth; the
temperature today, in the raindrop
or the shadow, not in what is forecast for tomorrow.




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